Mistress Aerona
by kaytay89
Summary: She was an outsider so she leaves to accept who she truly is: a witch. But when a warrior comes knocking, maybe she'll finally have the chance to be normal and fall in love. Problems come when the king is to marry her best friend, since she may love him


She had not been born normal, and nobody let her forget it. It wasn't their thoughtful intention, not by any means. They just never gave her the chance to be normal. No one could forget. Those. Hands.

She finally learned how to fix the problem. Her friend, who just so happened to be the daughter of the local Earl, gave her a pair of gloves one day while they played tea party. It was such a wonder when those disgusting adornments left their sight that her friend gave her the gloves permanently.

Even she was disgusted by the abominations. The only time the gloves ever left her hands was the time when she bathed. Because of this, she bathed in complete darkness. Her room off of the side of the Earl's castle was small. It had only enough room for her small bed pushed up against the outside wall, her bureau on the wall next to her door, and the tub in the corner next to her bed.

She had come to live in the castle by chance. No one knew who her parents were. On the Day of Hearings many years ago, she was found waiting in line to get in. When the heralds opened the doors to let commoners in, no one in line picked up the small baby wrapped carelessly in blankets that waited first in line.

A herald brought her inside, and such a ruckus was made about what to do and whose she was, that it attracted the attention of one of the Earl's advisers. The herald begged him for guidance on what to do, and the adviser told him the baby must be given to someone who could take care of her.

A maid, who was included in the group that had been arguing over the newborn babe before the adviser had come, realized that the child must be given to one of the cooks.

The woman had lost her husband some few years back in the war, and had never had a child to fill the loneliness in her heart. When the baby girl was placed in her arms, the woman wept with joy over finally becoming the person every woman aimed to be: a mother. She pushed back the blankets to look at her child in earnest, but when the blanket was only halfway down the child, women screamed and some even fainted at the horrific image of the baby's hands. The cook held one of the hands, and claimed, "Though the child has hands only the devil himself could have thought of, I will love this child as if it were my own, and shall raise her as such. I will call her Aelwen."

A year later brought the birth of the Earl's own daughter. Three years after this the two girls met by chance as Aelwen was roaming the servant's stair when she was not supposed to. When the princess first saw her, she saw the opportunity to have someone to play with. She may have had all of the toys in the world, but she never had anyone to play with. Melangell invited the girl in and showed Aelwen her toys.

When Aelwen reached for a doll she found interesting, Melangell screamed so loudly the guards outside of her door as well as her nursemaid came bursting through the room to see what had scared the little girl. "Her hands! They're dead!" the princess screamed, for the hands did look as if death had claimed them. Wrinkled beyond recognition, red as if recently burned though translucent as if she were an old woman, and scarred, scarred as if they had been cut a thousand times by a thousand swords.

The nursemaid quickly grabbed Aelwen and scolded her all the way back to the kitchens.

* * *

That night Aelwen lay with her mother in the small cottage they owned inside of the upper palace walls.

"Momma, why did I have to be cursed with these hands?"

Her mother held her in her arms as she rubbed her back. "Far be it for me to know why we are what we are. But listen to be dear," she said as she pulled her daughter to arms length in order to look in her face. "You may find that many people will be scared by your hands throughout your lifetime, but understand, who you are is what you need concern yourself with. Your hands are just a thing to look at, but it is your personality that people will come to cherish."

* * *

It was soon evident that even though the little princess was scared by the hands of the little girl she had met, that was not enough for her to be completely done with her. Melangell threw tantrum after tantrum in order to get the girl with the scary hands to come play with her. Finally her nursemaid, who had taken over making decisions for the princess after her mother died two years ago, consented.

During the days Aelwen's mother would cook in the kitchens while her daughter would spend her time playing with the princess and making sure she was happy.

When it came time for little Melangell to start having tutors, the Earl consented to letting the tutors teach Aelwen as well. The lessons came easier to the dark headed little girl than to her blond royal friend. But, ever the good person like her mother taught her to be, Aelwen helped her friend with her lessons.

Melangell gave Aelwen her gloves, and had another pair made for her soon after when Aelwen started to outgrow the first ones.

When her mother first saw them, she had quickly told her that she should not do this because it made other people comfortable, and should accept who she is.

"But mama, they make me comfortable. I know how people look at me, and sometimes won't, just because of my horrible hands."

Her mother begrudgingly gave in at that point, and merely ignored the presence of the gloves from then on.

* * *

But sad times would come, as does with any life. Aelwen's mother took sick and lay in her bed for many days before she called her daughter to her bedside.

"My darling," she said weakly and she looked into her eyes. "It has been six years since you were given to me. Six beautiful years. Having you in my life has made it complete. The only thing I could have ever wanted more than this is to have seen you as a grown woman."

"No mama," said the teary-eyed little girl. "You are not going to leave me."

"You have always been a smart girl. Even you must know that my time is here."

She pulled her hand out from under her blanket and cupped her daughter's cheek. "You are special, my dear Aelwen. Not just for the reasons you believe." She became more urgent with her next words. "Remember; always remember what I told you that night when you first met the princess."

Aelwen barely remembered, but she was not about to tell her dying mother that.

"I love you Aelwen, I have since the moment you were put into my arms. You're hands never mattered to me, only you."

"Remember Aelwen." And with that, her mother took her dying breath.

Aelwen cried into her mother's shoulder for what felt like hours, but must have been only minutes. The surgeon pulled her away from the body and pulled what was left of the blanket over her mother's head.

A maid came into the small cottage and told Aelwen to pack her things; the Earl had prepared a room for her inside of the castle.

Aelwen did as she was told, and then followed the maid back toward the castle. She expected to go in through the kitchens as she normally did with her mother each morning, but the maid steered her in another direction and toward the back of the castle.

The room the king had prepared for her was made out of what Aelwen believed to be the room that used to hold the gardening tools. The only entrance was from outside; it led to no other part of the castle. This was fine by Aelwen. She was used to living in a small home and walking in the rain to the castle.

A small window high on the wall was her only source of light other than the one candlestick she was given. Food would have to be gotten from the kitchens. Though lunches she usually ate with the princess in between lessons.

But once her things were put away, it became home.

* * *

The funeral for her mother was held the next day. Some of the staff from the castle were in attendance. Melangell came to support her friend. They sat on a rock in front of the grave with Melangell's head on her shoulder, the only form of comfort the five-year-old knew.

Once the funeral was finished, Melangell's nursemaid quickly took her from the dirty place. Aelwen stayed behind, and sat in front of her mother's grave.

Many hours later Aelwen returned to her small room and hugged the pillow her mother sowed specially for her. As the moonlight filtered in to her small room, Aelwen knew, nothing was going to be the same.


End file.
